A/N: A short little one-shot dedicated to my father (and no, this is in no way a reflection of me and my father's relationship). Please enjoy!
Batman sat at the main control panel of the watchtower's monitor womb, trying his best to remain focused on the task at hand. Gotham's nightly criminal activity had begun early last evening, leaving the Dark Knight no time to complete yesterday's mission reports. He'd woken up early this morning with hopes of quickly finishing the reports, leaving him plenty of time to eat a full breakfast and possibly even catch up on the sleep he so desperately needed before the daily influx of League missions came pouring in. Unfortunately, as he once again found himself tuning into the insistent squeaking of a nearby office chair (of which he had, for the past hour or so, been fervently attempting to ignore), he realized that his dream would never become a reality. A low growl began to grow deep inside his chest as his fingers hesitated over the keyboard.
"Why?" The Dark Knight groaned, exasperated, "why are you here?"
Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne's eldest son, simply grinned as he shoved his foot against the floor once more, allowing the chair to twirl him about on its axis.
"It's Father's Day, Bruce!" Dick exclaimed cheerfully, "can't a guy spend some time with his old man on Father's Day?"
Bruce let out an irritated huff, his fingers falling back into their monotonous march across the keyboard.
"Tim's my son too, you know," said Bruce, his tone making it clear that their true meaning was something along the lines of, 'Tim's leaving me alone, why can't you do the same?'
Dick simply rolled his eyes as he continued to rotate about in the chair.
"Tim's in school," Dick reminded, "and he gets to be with you tonight when you guys are on patrol; I'll be stuck in Blüdhaven."
Batman sighed; his typing ceased once more as he moved to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dick merely grinned.
"Shouldn't you be in school?" Bruce asked, both genuinely curious and desperate to get rid of the nuisance beside him.
Dick's eyes rolled once more, his head shaking in disbelief as he gave the floor yet another shove with the back of his heel.
"Bruce, I'm twenty-six years old," said Dick, "I graduated nearly four years ago; you remember that, don't ya, dad? You know, that graduation you never showed up to?"
Bruce sighed; this time it was him whose eyes rolled beyond his lids.
"And let's not forget that fancy party you threw me, but never came to," Dick continued, a smirk growing across his face, "Oh - oh! Or that time you completely forgot about my sixteenth birthday...Ah, memories."
Bruce groaned as the guilt set in, his head falling back upon the chair's headrest.
"Alright, alright," he said, "I get it; I owe you."
Dick grinned and gave the floor another shove, causing Bruce to wince at the obnoxious squeaking sound the chair made as a result.
"But, please," said Bruce, "please explain to me why - why on God's earth, must you be wearing that?"
Dick placed his foot upon the ground, instantly ceasing his swirling only to find his father's gloved hand gesturing out towards his own form. Dick looked down at himself with an enthusiastic grin, only to look back up at his father with the same expression. Bruce, however, looked as though he were in pain from the sight.
"Awe, c'mon, Bruce!" Said Dick, "for old times' sake! Besides -"
Dick paused in the midst of his sentence only to readjust himself and perform a graceful backflip out of his seat. He landed effortlessly upon his feet, his hands coming up to rest upon his hips as a triumphant smile spread across his lips.
"It still fits," he finished, puffing out his chest as if to prove his point.
Bruce looked over at his son, wincing at the sight of his brightly colored outfit. His legs were covered in vibrant green tights that led down into a pair of knee-high black boots. He wore a red vest with yellow button claps that came down to the center of his sternum, their sole function being to hold in place a black and yellow cape that draped casually over his shoulders. A bright yellow utility belt pulled the outfit together, along with a pair of green gloves that came up to his elbows, and the yellow "R" insignia that lay proudly over the young man's heart.
Bruce groaned, his face falling into his palms in utter defeat and humiliation. At this point he wasn't sure if he was embarrassed for him or because of him, but he was embarrassed nonetheless. Bruce thought back to when he had designed the very first Robin suit... what on earth was he thinking? Bruce sighed - he knew exactly what he was thinking; Robin was meant to be the counterpart of Batman, a symbol of hope, not fear. The bright coloring was meant to show people that they need not to be afraid, that they would be saved, and that Batman wasn't just some monster that beat down criminals, but a savior of mankind. Yes, Robin was meant to be a symbol of hope, a symbol of wonder; he was the Boy Wonder. Unfortunately, at that moment, he found him to be merely a symbol of stupidity.
Batman peered hesitantly through his gloved fingers, another groan passing through him as he watched his eldest beat down a group of imaginary villains.
"I kinda miss this old thing!" Said Dick whilst landing a particularly lethal roundhouse kick upon the jaw of his fictional opponent, "I think maybe I'll go back to it; trash the new get-up."
Batman's hands fell from his face, his eyes wide with dread.
"Oh, please, no," he moaned.
Dick smirked and quickly executed a quick combo of kicks and punches in efforts to take down one of his final two opponents. That one must have gone down, for he then quickly ducked to avoid a swing before hooking the second attacker behind the knees with a low kick. He stood, lifting his arms up in victory as the imaginary man fell, a boyish grin athwart his face as he turned back towards Bruce.
"Fine," he said, "but I'm keeping it on for the rest of the day, and there isn't a single thing you can do about it."
Batman let out a few flustered grumbles before turning his attention back to the incomplete mission reports.
"Why must you insist on humiliating me?" He asked, his fingers darting across the keyboard in fearsome agitation.
Dick smirked before hopping back into the office chair, resuming his previous, dizzying activity as though it had never been interrupted, "did I mention you never came to any of my Little League games?"
Bruce opened his mouth in efforts to protest, but was immediately cut off by the activation of his League communicator. Allowing his mouth to close with an audible 'clack,' Bruce reached up towards his ear to access the channel.
"Go ahead," he growled.
"Batman, this is Mister Terrific;" came Holt's voice, "we have a situation."
Batman frowned; looks like he wasn't going to be finishing those mission reports after all.
"I'll be right there," he said, closing the channel.
Batman stood from his seat, not even bothering to glance at Dick as he made his way towards the door at a quick pace. Dick grinned and stood from his seat as well, following his former boss whilst executing a string of enthusiastic flips and cartwheels.
The young man's acrobatics continued up until the two entered the watchtower's central command center. He gracefully transformed his handstand into a backwards summersault, casually rolling himself back onto his feet. He looked around to find that Bruce had already made his way towards the room's center where Mr. Terrific sat examining the watchtower's various monitoring systems. Dick broke out into a light jog in order to approach the man's side.
"Giganta, Volcana, and Firefly," Mister Terrific announced, gesturing towards the corresponding super-villains upon the screen before him, "Doris took the roof off the Metradome and snatched away Daniel Fredrick, Metropolis Generals' star point guard."
Batman's eyes narrowed as he examined the screen more closely, frowning once he indeed saw the celebrity clutched helplessly within Giganta's fist.
"What on earth do they want with him?" Dick asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen and directing them towards Michael.
"No idea," said Mister Terrific, his fingers furiously maneuvering themselves over the keyboard in front of him, switching the screen's view to a close up of the Metradome, "but right after she grabbed him, Volcana and Firefly torched the place. Flash is already down there removing everyone else inside, but I need you guys to- Uh..."
Bruce's eyebrows furrowed in confusion beneath his cowl before turning to figure out why Mister Terrific had ceased giving instruction.
"Need us to what?" He asked, but then soon realized why the man had hesitated. "Oh."
Mr. Terrific had turned to see who it was that would be accompanying Batman on the mission. He had been expecting a fellow Leaguer; imagine his surprise when he turned to find an overgrown Robin at his side.
"Robin, you've...hit a growth spurt," Michael said carefully, a single eyebrow raised in both curiosity and amusement. It didn't take long for Mr. Terrific to determine that the man in the costume was not Robin, but Blüdhaven's own watchful protector, Nightwing.
Dick grinned, "I've been eating my vegetables."
Batman rolled his eyes, "You were saying, Mr. Terrific?"
Michael cleared his throat and turned back towards the monitor.
"Right, sorry," he said, "I need you guys to go down there, rescue Fredrick, and take down Giganta; you might want to pick a third for the team... Oh, and, if possible, find out how these three ended up working together; this is a rather unusual collaboration."
Batman nodded.
"Got it," he said, turning towards Dick, "let's go."
Batman scanned the group of Leaguers that currently resided in the command center, searching for a third for the team as the two made their way towards the transport pad. At last, his eyes caught sight of someone he assumed would be useful.
"Shayera," he called out, "we have a mission; let's go."
The Hawk turned at the sound of her name and gave a short nod in response. Tightening her grip on the handle of her mace, she made her way to the transport pad with a single, smooth sweep of her wings.
The three stood upon the transport pad and awaited the bright flash that would soon follow. Shayera turned to examine Dick for the first time, her expression remaining blank until a knowing smirk began to tug at her lips.
"Oh," she said, "this is going to be fun."
The ground beneath them lit up, illuminating the rest of the room as well. Before they knew it, the three were standing atop the roof of a Metropolis business office.
"Alright, here's the plan," said Batman, turning towards the other two, "Shayera, I want you in the air. Get Giganta's attention and be sure to keep it, but do not engage; she has a hostage and we don't want to risk him suffering any further injury."
Shayera nodded, "understood."
Batman continued, "Nightwing, you-"
"Ah-hem."
Bruce's eyes narrowed at the man before him; his arms were crossed over his chest, an infuriating smirk upon his face. Bruce had half a mind to wait this out and force the man into submission under his fearsome gaze, but the screams of panicked citizens below told him this was no time to be proud. Bruce let out a dejected sigh, his shoulders slumping low in their sockets.
"Robin," he managed to ground out, causing a full-fledged grin to spread across Dick's face, "you and I are going to set up a wire on the ground. Shayera, your job is to lead Giganta to it and, when she trips, be sure to catch Fredrick before he gets anywhere near the ground."
Shayera's eyes lit up in interest before turning to look towards where Giganta was stomping throughout the city. Her eyes narrowed, her enhanced vision zoning in on the man trapped helplessly within Doris' grasp.
"Fredrick? As in Daniel Fredrick?" Shayera asked, the star-struck excitement evident in her tone.
Batman nodded, "yes, now, let's move out."
Shayera now grasped her mace in both hands. With a few whisks of her wings, she was up and off the rooftop in mere moments.
Batman turned to find Dick grinning at him, grappling gun already in hand.
"Ready when you are, Chief," he said.
Bruce sighed and walked past him towards the edge of the roof. He shot off his grappling gun, gave it a quick tug to make sure it had securely hooked onto the opposing building's fire escape, and then jumped off the edge in order to swoop down upon the concrete ground. Nightw- err, Robin, followed shortly after.
Shayera rounded the wide corner of Giganta's cheekbone, making sure to position herself directly in front of her colossal eyeball.
"Hey, Doris!" Shayera shouted, a smirk upon her face as she watched Giganta's pupil focus in on her form, "there are better ways to get a date, you know, most men don't go for the whole assertive thing."
Giganta's top lip pulled up into an angry snarl, "get out of my face!"
A ginormous hand came into Shayera's peripheral vision; she dodged the blow, swooping gracefully between two large fingers.
"Easy there, Jumbo," Shayera chided, "let's not get hasty."
An angry growl left the giant's throat, her free arm continuing to swat furiously at the Hawk. Shayera swiftly eluded each swing, weaving her way throughout the air, mace dangling from its wrist strap.
Shayera's communicator went off in her ear; Batman's voice came booming through.
"Batman to Shayera, we're in position," he said.
Shayera took a dive, avoiding yet another one of Giganta's efforts to take her out. Dropping a near two hundred feet, she caught sight of the wire.
"Roger that," she replied.
Batman wrapped the cable a couple more times around the lamp post before entangling his own hands within it as well. He glanced across the street to see Dick following his lead, wrapping his end of the cord around the bend of his hand. Pretty soon the ground began to tremble beneath them; they both turned to see a ginormous pair of legs traveling towards them, a flying Thanagarian leading her at knee-height.
"Holy humongous, Batman!"
"I'll kill you, Dick."
The two pulled with all their might, tightening the cord to the best of their abilities. Giganta's ankles hooked onto the wire, proving to be more than enough to throw off her equilibrium. She began to fall, only her weight and forward velocity caused the two light-posts to give way as well, taking Bruce and Dick with them.
Shayera quickly gained altitude, her wings flapped fiercely against the wind as she made her way towards Giganta's left hand. As soon as Doris came to terms with her inevitable tumble, her hand relaxed, releasing the man trapped inside so she may utilize it to break her fall. Shayera was there within moments, her arms hooking the man underneath his shoulders - his fretful screams soon died down as he looked up at his savior. Shayera smiled down at him sheepishly.
"Hi," she said awkwardly, "I'm a huge fan..."
Batman groaned in pain as he pushed himself up from the gravel and began to dust off various debris from his suit. He then looked up to see that the science police had already arrived on the scene and were currently handcuffing Giganta who, by now, had been sedated and reverted back to minimal height. A colorful flash of green and yellow appeared in his peripheral vision, and he turned to find a stupidly dressed Dick Grayson at his side.
"We did it, Batman! We saved Metropolis!" He cheered.
Batman growled, "would you stop talking like that?!"
Dick merely grinned as they both turned in order to acknowledge the approaching Shayera, along with the petrified basketball player she held in her arms. As soon as the two had their feet upon the ground, Batman got straight down to business.
"Good work, Shayera," he said, "but now we need information; we can start by finding where Volcana and Firefly ran off to."
Before Batman could even present the theories he had on where they might be, a huge gust of wind had them all taking a step back in efforts to make room for a zooming red blur.
"One step ahead of ya, big guy," came the voice of the Scarlet Speedster, "just turned them over to the police half a second ago. Turns out Volcana put her money on the wrong team, she promised Giganta half the money if she helped eliminate the competition for Hub City; Fredrick here is playing them next week."
Daniel's mouth fell open in disbelief; he found it inconceivable for someone to go through such great lengths to win some cash off a game... Though he also found it quite flattering that it was him they chose to ensure their winnings.
"And what about Firefly?" Pressed Batman, almost irritated that all the detective work had been done for him, by The Flash, no less.
Wally smirked, "I guess you could say he's...carrying a torch, for our dear Volcana."
Dick smirked as well, catching onto the Speedster's play on words.
"Oh," he added, "you mean he's... got the hots, for her?"
Bruce's head fell back in utter despair, allowing him to look up towards the open sky. Kill me, he thought, just kill me now.
"Dude," came Flash, "what's up with the costume change?"
Dick flashed that infuriating grin of his, "oh, you know, just thought I'd take a trip down memory lane."
Smile still plastered upon his face, Dick shoved an elbow into Batman's side.
"Isn't that right, Batman?"
Bruce sighed, his eyes still fixed upon the clouds.
"Robin?"
Dick's grin grew at the sound of his former title, "Yeah, Chief?"
"I hate you."
Dick's grin never left his lips as he threw an arm over his father's shoulders, looking ahead as Wally and Shayera harassed Fredrick for his autograph, whilst Bruce continued to stare at the sky.
"Little League, Bruce," said Dick in a hushed tone, "Little League..."
A/N: Review, please!